by Mia London
As he reached down to retrieve his sweatpants and t-shirt, a reminder of the night before stared back at him. Charlie’s white panties lay several feet away on the floor. She must have dropped them in her rush out the door.
He leaned down and took them in his hand. He couldn’t resist their appeal. He raised them to his face. Her sweet smell hung on the white cotton causing him to stir deep inside.
Charlie may regret her decision to come over last night, but it’s unlikely that he ever will. He should have handled things differently at the end, but Charlie in his bed would never be bad.
Her skin, her smell, her kiss, the way she touched his body—it all made him feel alive. The most alive he’d felt his entire life.
He did his business in the bathroom and headed to the kitchen. “Good morning, grandma,” he said as he reached for the coffee pot, trying to hide how he felt.
“Good morning, Blake.” Her head tipped to the side. “You look like you had a rough night.”
“A bit.” He grumbled.
Her lips pulled to the side. “You remind me of your grandfather.”
He peered her way.
“Whenever something wasn’t right, and it weighed heavily on his mind, he’d have a lousy sleep.” She released a breath. “Blake, I don’t know what you’re struggling with, but you can’t ignore it. You need to fix it.”
She looked a moment longer, then in Grandma’s typical manner, she patted him on the cheek and changed the subject. “Today, would you take a look at my bathroom sink? The faucet is dripping.”
“Sure, Grandma.”
“Also, tomorrow morning, I have an appointment with my cardiologist. Would you please take me?”
“Of course.” He knew she could drive, but frankly he didn’t mind playing chauffeur to her. Maybe he’d even take her Jeep.
His cell phone rang in his pocket. The screen showed it was the bookkeeping firm he’d recently hired to do the company’s books. As business grew. Patrick got busier and more frazzled than usual. Blake was concerned he’d overwhelmed Patrick. Outsourcing some tasks seemed like an excellent option.
“Blake Strickland.”
“Blake. Hello. George McAnally here.”
“Hi, George. How’s everything going?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m seeing some strange items, anomalies, listed in accounts payable.” He heard a sigh come over the line. “It’s likely nothing, but I wanted to let you know as quickly as possible.”
“I appreciate it. What are we looking at here?”
“We won’t know anything for sure until we finish the audit.”
He felt the heat of anger crawl up his spine like a rat in search of food. George thought someone was stealing from him. “Dammit!” he muttered.
“Don’t beat yourself up, Blake. It could be nothing. I’ll call you as soon as we get confirmation.”
“Okay. Thanks, George. I appreciate the heads up.”
Blake stared into space. Could it be Patrick? It had to be a mistake. Patrick had access to the company’s financial data, and the bank account. The balance sheet always zeroed out, as it should. He hoped to hell George was mistaken.
He took in a breath through gritted teeth. Could this day get any worse?
Blake entered his grandma’s bathroom and thought he’d stepped back into the 1950s. Everywhere he looked he saw pink. Pink shower, pink tile halfway up the wall and the same pink tiles on the countertop. Oh, Lord. Grandma even had a pink toilet. The floor was black and white, or at least it had been at one time.
“Uh, Grandma. This room needs more help than fixing a leaky faucet.”
She glanced around, like she hadn’t seen the space every day of her adult life, and waved her hand. “Oh, don’t worry about it, dear. We have bigger fish to fry.”
Yes, well, this isn’t staying this way for long.
Blake exhaled and leaned forward to set the toolbox down.
He reached below and shut off the hot and cold water valves, then he removed the handles. The corner of his mouth rose when he caught sight of a crescent wrench in the toolbox. Most likely a recent acquisition from one of his cousins. He pulled out the cartridge and jimmied out the ring and spring.
“Grandma, I’ll be right back. I will need to get replacement parts at Bradley’s.”
“Okay, dear,” she called back.
Blake had a hard time shaking off the funk he was in. On his drive to the hardware store, he decided to call Ty and Jack to see if they wanted to get together. If he could get his mind off Charlie, maybe things could return to normal.
“Hey, Jack. How’s it hangin’?”
“Long and hairy and hard to carry. What’s up, my man? How’s grandma?”
“She’s doing great. I’m callin’ to see if you would be up for Saturday’s football game.”
“Definitely. We play Northern Colorado.”
Hearing Jack’s enthusiasm already started turning Blake’s mood around. “Great. I’ll call Ty, too. I haven’t seen him yet.”
“Excellent.”
“Let’s meet at the house. I’ll text you the details.”
He disconnected the line and called Ty. Ty sounded good, and he’d made a full recovery. So with plans solidified, Blake had something to look forward to.
He parked in the parking lot behind Bradley’s and made his way to the building. He mentally went through the list of other things he would need for the house, like caulk and weather-stripping. He’d likely track down a few more things while he shopped.
Blake had immersed himself in his thoughts so deeply that he almost missed seeing Charlie exit a coffeehouse two doors down. She didn’t miss him, though. When he looked over, she held his gaze momentarily and then looked away. She didn’t smile. The coolness in her eyes and severity of her mouth let him know she hadn’t begun to forget what he’d said the previous night.
He should apologize. He knew it.
“Charlie,” he called out.
She opened her car door. If she heard him, she didn’t let on.
“Charlie!” He pumped his arms to jog faster.
Her car door closed. She glanced briefly over her shoulder looking at him square in the eyes and took off out of the parking spot completely ignoring his call. He stood there watching her leave, feeling like an ass.
He wiped a hand over his brow a few times. He really was an ass, and a part of him twisted deep inside at the thought that he’d hurt Charlie. He tried to justify his actions, tried to ignore that it meant anything since she’d hurt him years earlier.
He let out a sigh and returned to the direction he was headed.
She knew it. She knew it. Dammit! She knew it.
Charlie had dropped in to review several mock-ups with Jamie before the store’s opening. She wanted to get in and out, and get back to her home office, but that damn coffee called to her. Coffee should be outlawed.
Hot coffee in hand, she walked to her car and happened to notice Blake. He was hard to miss. He looked sexy as sin. His long legs ate up the blacktop. She may have stared a bit too long because as she watched his ass move she flashed back to cupping that glorious, firm ass the night before.
And then he had to ruin it.
When he spotted her, her heart stopped. She couldn’t see him or talk to him for fear she would start crying all over again. Really, how many tears should one woman shed over a man?
The true saving grace—Blake looked like hell. The bags under his eyes told her his sleep was like hers—crappy.
Good! Served him right.
She’d keep the anger close. Anger concealed the pain of a broken heart. When was he leaving Fort Collins? She didn’t know how much more of this shit she could take.
Chapter Eleven
Blake walked out to the porch as Jack drove up Grandma’s driveway in his black Chevy pickup.
“Yo.” He nodded to Blake and strolled across the front grass.
“Hey, man,” Blake called to him. He hugged
his cousin, feeling the sting of his hand slap on his back.
Jack wasted no time in throwing out a dig. “Are you taking care of some things around here or are you too busy staring at your PC?”
“You look like you peaked in middle school.” He tossed back.
“Original. You look like—” He sneezed. Clearly faking it. “Excuse me, I’m allergic to stupidity.”
“Hardy har.”
Before the antics could continue, Ty arrived in a gorgeous ’57 Corvette and sporting a brand new Rams sweatshirt. As he unfolded himself from the enviable machine, Jack chided, “Do you wipe that thing with a diaper?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
He shook his head. “Blake, we’d better stop somewhere and get this boy some drawers then.”
Blake rolled his eyes.
Ty grinned. “Oh, he’s on a roll today.” He leaned in to hug his cousins.
Grandma came out to the porch and greeted them. They each said their hellos and bent to hug and kiss her. From the glow and smile on her face, anyone could see how much she loved having her grandsons near.
“Will you boys be back for dinner?” she asked as her eyebrows rose.
Blake wanted to chuckle over the fact that his grandma still called them “boys”.
“I don’t know, Grandma,” Blake supplied.
“Oh, well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” She paused. “And invite the girls, too.”
Ty nodded. “Okay. I’d need to check with Faith, make sure we don’t have plans.”
“I could call Mya,” Jack said as he shrugged a shoulder.
Blake had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach—the conversation was treading dangerous territory.
She looked up at him. “You call Charlotte, too,” Grandma said as she clapped her hands together in front of her and her eyes twinkled.
Both of his cousins’ heads snapped in his direction, as if they just heard some unbelievable news. “Um. Okay, Grandma. I’ll call her.” He knew his words were a lie. “But that’s if we make it back in time.”
“Sure, sure. Well, I don’t want to keep you. Call me later. Have a good time, boys.”
Man, his grandmother was persistent.
During the ride to the stadium, no one brought up the topic of Charlie . . . but Blake knew his cousins. He wasn’t off the hook; it was just a matter of time.
After they had arrived at the stadium, they each got a drink and took their seats.
“Did you guys hear about the new stadium?” Ty asked.
“Everyone knows about the football stadium, man,” Jack said with a grin on his face. Jack harassed him about how the new stadium was the talk of the town.
Looking Ty’s way, he asked, “So how are things going with you?”
Ty leaned forward and rested his elbows on his legs. “Good. You know I’m the lead investigator for the Larimer County Prosecutor's Office, and that’s going well. Occasionally, I fill-in at Faith’s rehab facility as a personal trainer.”
“You guys are living together now, right?”
Ty’s lips curved at the mention of Faith. “Yeah. She’s great. It’s going great.”
“So when are y’all getting hitched?” Jack nudged.
Ty sat back in his chair and refocused on the field where the action had started. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”
The Rams’ wide receiver caught the ball and ran twenty-eight yards for a touchdown. The crowd went wild. Blake and his cousins stood to cheer and high-five. The guy behind Blake let out a whoop that left Blake’s ears ringing.
After the stadium noise had subsided, the conversation continued. “How’s the school year starting out, Jack?” Blake asked.
“Good. Looks like I have a smart bunch of grad students.” He nodded in contemplation. “It should be a good year.”
“And how are things going with Mya?”
“She’s in the process of scouting locations for opening her own dance studio.”
“Good for her. And what about wedding bells for you two?”
“Whatever.” Jack smirked and adjusted his tortoiseshell eyeglasses. “We’re not talking about me. What did Grandma mean about inviting Charlie over for dinner? Are you two back together?” Jack asked.
“She’s trying to get us back together.”
Ty and Jack glanced at each other and grinned. They were all too familiar with Grandma’s matchmaking.
“What’s going on?” Ty’s eyes squinted.
Blake ran a hand through his hair. He wished he had something stronger than soda at this point. “I don’t know. It’s weird. It’s like Charlie wants to get back together,” he said while looking at the game, and not really watching.
“Why would she think that? Did ya’ sleep with her?” Jack asked blatantly.
“Shit, Jack.”
“You guys had a bad breakup, if I recall correctly. Has that been rectified?” Ty asked.
Blake shrugged a shoulder.
“That means no,” Jack offered. “So, let me get this straight. You’re sleeping with her, she wants more, but you haven’t gotten past something that happened years ago. That sound about right?” Leave it to Jack to pry into his personal business.
“I only slept with her one time since being back.” Two days ago to be exact.
“Doesn’t matter.” Ty was right. It didn’t matter. After the initial awkwardness, the time he’d spent with Charlie since returning had been great. He also knew he was attracted to her, but his heart or head—whatever—wouldn’t let him get closer.
He scrubbed the side of his face. So much for having a distraction with his cousins.
So what should I do next, he thought as he let out an exasperated sigh.
Chapter Twelve
The whole dinner thing with Ty and Jack fell apart. All the better. That next day he had work to do. Not on the house, but with Charlie.
There was one definitive way to put this damn mess with Charlie to rest. Blake needed to track down Den Pallasalla. He dreaded the whole fucking idea, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t have any other option.
Finding someone on the internet was relatively easy. And for a person with Blake’s expertise, it was as easy as changing a password.
Blake stopped the car outside of the simple two-story house in Lace Saturday afternoon. He strode to the door and knocked. On closer look, the place desperately needed a fresh coat of paint. Dang, Den. Have some pride.
In a beat, the front door swung open.
“Yeah,” Den said before the realization of Blake’s presence settled in. His eyes went wide. “Blake. Hey. Funny seeing you. How’s it goin’?”
“Den, we need to talk—either inside or out. What’s it gonna be?” Blake asked in a calm voice. He truly felt calm. Their conversation was going to be straight-forward and truthful. Blake didn’t need to rip the guy apart. He’d moved passed that anger.
“Outside.” Den swung his head back and called, “Honey, I’ll be right back,” then pulled the door closed behind him.
Blake took a seat on an old wooden chair.
Den seated a few feet away. “What’s up?” His voice betrayed him. He was nervous, Blake knew.
“I came here to discuss what happened at CSU with Charlie. I never came to you.” He leaned forward and leveled the guy with a stare that told him he wouldn’t be fucked with. “I need to know the truth, the whole truth, right now.”
Den’s Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. He looked down and hadn’t raised his head for a while. Blake’s patience wore thin.
Then, Den’s shoulders slumped. He began, and not a moment too soon. “Charlie dropped by my frat house with her girlfriends. One of my brothers dated one of her friends. She told me she wasn’t there to see me and that they would all be leaving soon. But we already had several people over, and the keg was tapped, so it was easy for everyone to grab a drink before hitting the road.” Den wiped his brow with his hand. “I brought beers over to her and her friend
s, but first, I slipped a Mickey in hers.”
Blake clenched his fists into tight balls. The fury almost shot him from his chair. He wanted to plow into Den, and body-slam him to the ground. The bile in his throat almost gagged him.
“When I saw it taking effect, I took her to my room. I was pretty drunk and not thinking clearly, Blake.” Like that was going to be some acceptable explanation for his fucked-up behavior.
“All I knew is that I wanted her back, and I saw that as an opportunity to try and get her back. I took off her clothes and mine. I set up the camera to take pictures of us. Those were the ones I sent to you.”
Blake’s nostrils flared. He sucked in a long breath. “Did you have sex with her?”
Den shook his head. “No, swear to God.” He scratched the side of his neck. “I was too drunk to get it up.”
Blake slowly exhaled. That’s something.
“Is there anything else I need to know? Anything you’re forgetting?” he asked still containing his anger.
“No, Blake. Nothing. I promise. The whole thing backfired on me. She didn’t want anything to do with me ever again. She was so pissed. May still be, I don’t know. At one point, I thought she was going to hug me, and she kneed me in the balls instead.” Den winced at his words.
Blake bit back a smile. Now that sounded like his girl.
At least Den had the decency to look contrite. “Blake, I’m sorry, man. She did nothing wrong. It was all me,” he said as he patted his hand several times over her chest.
“Alright. That’s all I need to know.” Blake rose, and without a goodbye or a handshake, he left the dickhead alone to think about how he’d devastated two lives for his own stupid, selfish gains.
Of course, Blake thought to himself, you’re a dickhead too because you never believed Charlie. He’d automatically thought she cheated on him with an old boyfriend of two years.
What was his fear? That he couldn’t compete with their history?
That was bullshit. He knew deep inside what he and Charlie had she’d never had with any other man. She told him so, several times, before and after all the Den-shit went down.